


The Will of the Sultana

by amandaterasu



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Assume Spoilers might show up at any point if they fit with the story., F/M, Love Triangles, May/December Relationship, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Notes of Cyrano de Bergerac, Political Marriage, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:41:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26038867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amandaterasu/pseuds/amandaterasu
Summary: When a member of the Syndicate brings up Nanamo's potential marriage on her twenty-sixth birthday, she's forced to consider her options: Both in her heart, and what would be best for her people.
Relationships: Nanamo Ul Namo/Lolorito Nanarito, Nanamo Ul Namo/Pipin Tarupin, Raubahn Aldynn & Nanamo Ul Namo
Comments: 5
Kudos: 14





	The Will of the Sultana

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is very fun for me to work on, so I'll be updating it around my other fics when I need a break/want to relax. Don't expect anything resembling regular updates.
> 
> That being said, love is stored in the comment, so if you like this story, please let me know. The more serotonin I get from a fic the more likely I am to update.

"Her Royal Highness," her personal attendant, Edith, began, and she could hear the familiar scrape of chairs in the next room. "Nanamo Ul Namo, Sultana of Ul'dah, Seventeenth in the line of Ul." At the sound of her name, the Sultana strode into the council chambers, her chin high as she climbed into the chair at the head of the table. The members of the Syndicate stood before the rest of the seats, remaining silent with varying degrees of respect, ranging from Pipin's kind but overly-familiar stare to Lord Loetkilbsyn's frostily cordial disinterest. The only one who seemed to thread that needle correctly was Lord Lolorito, who kept his face straight ahead, but must have been watching her because he gave a polite bow when she came into the edge of his peripheral vision. 

Once Nanamo sat, the Syndicate did as well. "Thank you for joining me today," she said. "Shall we begin?"

Lord Lolorito nodded and his assistant launched immediately into the business that comprised her weekly meeting with the wealthiest men and women of Ul'dah. But Nanamo so wished she could call this meeting to a close. It wasn’t that she _disliked_ seeing to the needs of her people, or the responsibilities of governance, but she had hoped that today, just for one day, she could set aside those concerns. It was her twenty-sixth nameday, and after this meeting would be a dizzying string of appointments and events, followed by a feast and a ball in the evening. She had hoped for one day where she could delight in being the Sultana, rather than being weighed down by it. 

Maybe it had been a selfish wish.

Still, the Syndicate, for all their meddling, had gone rather easy on her today. No jabs about her uselessness, no suggestions that she is unfit for her position. Just business, which, now that she thought about it, had been par for the course this past year, since she approached Lord Lolorito with her proposition regarding the Saltery in Ala Mhigo. 

Letting her eyes flick to the man in question, she wondered what was going on behind that mask of his. She had only seen him without it that once, and sometimes she wished he’d do away with it all together - it would help her understand what he was thinking, and she needed that. Whichever way Lolorito went was usually the way the Syndicate would go as well.

Nanamo only realized she had drifted from the meeting when Lord Lolorito’s mouth opened slightly in shock and the quill dropped from his hand onto the ledger before him. She glanced back to the rest of the table and saw the rest of its inhabitants staring at Fyrgeiss Loetkilbsyn, the Chairman of the Amajina & Sons Mineral Concern. To her surprise, even Pipin looked shocked and almost furious.

“Oh, don’t tell me you haven’t even considered it,” The Roegadyn repeated, drumming his fingers on the tabletop. “It is her grace’s twenty-sixth nameday, and she has a responsibility to her people beyond parties and balls.”

“Forgive me, Lord Loetkilbsyn,” Nanamo said, straightening. “I was momentarily distracted and missed your statement. Would you allow me to prevail upon you to repeat it?”

He sighed, but nodded. “I merely said that we should also begin discussion of the matter of succession. We forestalled this discussion a few years given that nasty business with Adeledji, but you are unmarried, and will need to produce an heir, hopefully more than one. We can’t just sit on our hands and hope the issue works itself out.”

She gave herself three breaths before responding, ignoring Pipin’s building outrage. “I assume, as you are bringing this topic up in an official capacity, that you have a potential spouse you’d like to suggest?”

“Not as of yet, your Grace,” Fyrgeiss said, bowing his head to the justice of the question, “but I had hoped to bring the matter up so that you might begin considering your options, and bring them forward for the Syndicate’s approval. And so that my fellow Syndicate members may consider potential husbands they would like to suggest. Perhaps at our next meeting we could go over the lists and see if anyone suitable -”

“It seems this meeting is at an _end.”_ To her surprise, it was Lord Lolorito who spoke, his face again unreadable. “Your Grace, I wish to extend my humblest apologies for Lord Loetkilbsyn’s unseemly suggestion.”

“Here, here!” Pipin chorused his agreement. “This is a matter best discussed by the whole of the Syndicate before it is brought up to the Sultana.”

Nanamo felt something click into place in the back of her mind. “It is quite all right,” she said, placing her hands firmly on the tabletop. “But I agree this is a good place to end this meeting. Perhaps we might have a more enlightening discussion on the topic next week, after we have all had a chance to consider it.”

The members of the Syndicate all bowed their heads respectfully as she hopped down from the ornate chair and strode out the door. Edith was waiting, and performed a quick curtsey even as she pulled her ledger from under her arm. “I hope the meeting was productive, Your Grace?” 

“Not really, but it has given me much to think about,” Nanamo said, chewing her lower lip. “Lord Loetkilbsyn brought up the issue of my marriage.”

“They _what?”_ The Hyur said, her eyes widening behind her wire-frame glasses as she took a step back. “But… Lord Lolorito said -” She instantly clamped her mouth shut, realizing she was about to shatter the polite fiction that she was not the Monetarist’s agent.

The Sultana and her assistant stared at each other for a few moments in silence before Nanamo said, “It is a matter I have been meaning to give due consideration.”

“What about Pipin?” Edith asked.

Nanamo shrugged. “We have known each other for years and he has never given me any indication he seeks anything beyond a mild flirtation. Further, I am not free to wed as my heart desires - in this matter, most especially, I must take what is best for Ul’dah as my guiding star.”

They began moving towards the Sultana’s chambers, passing other servants getting ready for the evening’s entertainments. “Do you not think Lord Tarupin is what is best for Ul’dah? Raubahn passed ownership of the Coliseum to him, so he is a member of the Syndicate, and he is the General of the Immortal Flames. Surely bringing his connections under the control of the Crown would be a good match.”

The Sultana felt it again. That click, signifying another piece of a puzzle she didn’t realize she was assembling falling into place. “It would be a good match,” she conceded, “but I would be remiss of me to merely settle for _good_ without further consideration.”

“Forgive the impertinence of the question, your Grace,” the handmaiden said, “but do you even have anyone else in mind?”

“Not yet,” she murmured, “but my people deserve the best I can give them.”

Edith nodded, and escorted her into her chambers.

* * *

“Did I not make my opinions on this matter perfectly clear?” Lord Lolorito Nanarito said, fuming in his chair in the council chambers. “After Adeledji’s disastrous attempt at a coup, we _must_ be above reproach with regards to our interactions with the Sultana!”

Pipin nodded his agreement. “Here, here!”

“It has been five years since the attempt, Lolorito,” Fyrgeiss said, “and she _does_ have a responsibility when it comes to matters of succession! We can’t turn a blind eye to it just because you want to coddle her.”

“It does beg a question,” Dewlala Dewla said, glancing up from her paperwork. “General Tarupin, why have you and the Sultana not… progressed things?”

Pipin blinked. “She’s the Sultana, I can’t just…” 

Fyrgeiss snorted. “Just because you Royalists like the crown sitting on her pretty pink head doesn’t mean she’s any different from any other woman. You should make your interest and intentions known. It’d save us all a good deal of trouble.”

“For someone who claims to be a Monetarist, you certainly have a keen interest in securing the line of succession,” Dewlala interjected blandly.

“I’d rather know what we’re up against for the next few decades. No point in countering her overmuch if she’s barren. But if she marries, her husband will be one to contend with as well. I’d rather have her get it over with and marry the boy,” here he gestured at Pipin, “so I can deal directly with him rather than phantoms and what-ifs.”

“But… what if she does not _wish_ to marry me?” Pipin asked. “Worse still, you’ve made a matter for the good of her people. She may decide I am not worthy of the citizenry.”

“At least make an attempt to woo her,” Lord Lolorito said, leaning back in his chair. His fingers slipped beneath his mask to rub the bridge of his nose in irritation. “Discuss things further with the other Royalists. If the faction puts you forward as a potential match along with you wooing her, it won’t be an issue. The rest of the Syndicate will abstain from putting someone forward, given our Monetarist leanings, and that should settle things nicely.”

The others nodded, and began packing up while Lord Lolorito finished his notes, until he was left alone with General Tarupin. The boy fidgeted nervously, staring at his hands, until Lolorito finally dropped his quill. “Well?”

“I had hoped to ask you a personal question, my Lord. Get your advice on a topic.”

Though it could not be seen behind his mask, one of Lolorito’s eyebrows twitched upward. “And what topic is that?”

“Have _you_ ever been married?” Pipin asked.

“Once, a long time ago.” He tossed a bit of pounce over his notes to dry them quickly, and stuck a spare piece of paper between the pages just in case before closing the ledger.

“What happened to your spouse?” Pipin asked.

Lolorito pursed his lips. “She ran off with her lover less than a year after our wedding, and died giving birth to his child a few years later.”

The General winced. “I… see. But, you have experience courting a woman.”

The twist of the knife. Of course. Raubahn had trained the boy well. “Not that it’s _relevant,_ but yes.”

“It _is_ relevant, Lord Lolorito,” Pipin said, his eyes fixed on his mask as if he could see through it. “I want you to help me woo the Sultana.”

“Absolutely _not.”_ The words were past his lips in a near-snarl before he was able to reign himself in. “We’re practically handing her to you on a silver platter already. Take that and be content.” _Even breaths, Lolorito,_ he told himself. _Nice and steady. Think of things that keep you calm. The clink of a coin. The joy of negotiation. The glint of sunlight off -_

Pipin was speaking again. “I want the Sultana to be happy. Surely that will do much for the stability of the realm.”

“If you do not think you are capable of making her happy, then I suggest you find another man for the job,” he countered. “If you lack the skill or the subtlety to woo a woman who has been batting her eyelashes at you for years, then you aren’t the man I thought you were.”

“I’m not asking you to woo her for me, I just want to come to you for advice,” the boy countered.

Lolorito looked down at his stacked ledgers and sighed. “Fine. Do you want some advice? Be bold. Your Sultana is jaded by the things she’s seen and endured, and as much as we Monetarists mislike the institution of the Sultanate, she does much to keep the people at ease. We would not have survived the Calamity without her leadership. She does not have the time nor the patience for dithering. So, do not dither. At the ball this evening, ask her to dance.”

“And then?” Pipin leaned forward in his chair.

“And then dance with her. By the Twelve, boy, what did General Aldynn even teach you? You dance with her, you dine with her, you tell her she’s beautiful. Then go talk to your Royalist cronies and at our meeting next week, have them put you forward. You’ll be fine. It’s not like she’s expressed interest in anyone else.”

“Thank you, Lord Lolorito.” 

“Don’t thank me,” he said, waving his hand as he gathered his things. “I’m doing this for the chance to profit, nothing more. A royal wedding will bring loads to the city and there is gil to be made.” With that, he left the chamber. 

One of Lolorito’s attendants took the ledgers from him and they walked in silence down the hall. He took those moments to compose himself after the meeting, and think again on things that made him happy.

_The clink of a coin._

_The joy of negotiation._

_The glint of sunlight off the Sultana’s hair._

_The look of triumph in her face when she got him to remove his mask._

_The way she smiled when he gave in to her request._

Lord Lolorito’s scowl deepened as he headed for his mansion. His feelings for the Sultana were immaterial. She was forty years his junior, and barely tolerated him besides. He was the necessary evil to keep the balance of power in Ul’dah. As nominal leader of the Monetarists, he had to be her foil. He could be nothing more, and nothing less.

* * *

The dancing had gone on for some time as Lolorito stood in his customary place near a pillar, watching the people moving on the floor. He regretted suggesting Pipin ask the Sultana to dance. The boy was not very good at it; his skills on the battlefield apparently did _not_ translate to the ballroom.

To his surprise, Nanamo appeared at his elbow. 

“Your Grace,” Lolorito said, bowing his head in respect. “I hope your nameday finds you well.”

“It has, for the most part, though I admit, the meeting this morning has given me much to consider.” She turned her warm smile on him, and it took all of his self-control not to scowl at her. It simply wasn’t fair negotiation for her to look at him like that.

“I wouldn’t worry overmuch,” he said, looking away, thankful for his mask. “I am sure things will work themselves out, and I’ve had a word with Fyrgeiss with regards to the topic. You needn’t worry.”

“The other members of the Syndicate generally follow your lead.” It was not a question, so he didn’t respond. “May I ask why?” 

Lolorito sighed. Etiquette demanded a direct question required a direct answer. “I have been a member of the Syndicate nearly twenty years, Your Grace, after I rose from being a mere porter to creating a commercial empire that stretches from Eorzea to distant Kugane. My business acumen is without question. So of course they do.”

“You certainly have a nose for profit,” she said, setting her now-empty champagne glass on the tray of a passing servant. 

The strains of music picked up, growing in volume as it signaled the beginning of the next dance and Lolorito felt more than saw the glance the Sultana afforded him. _Damnable Etiquette._

“Your Grace,” he said, the picture of perfection. “Might I have this dance?”

“Of course, my lord.” Her reply was cool and courtly, no less than he expected, and he took her hand and led her to the floor.

Mild amusement flitted through Lolorito’s mind, some minor flicker of triumph. This was a similar dance to one Pipin botched earlier, and it soothed a hurt he was not yet ready to name that he was better than the General at this. 

The Sultana was an excellent dancer, but he expected no less. This arena - ballrooms and diplomacy - was the battlefield she had been trained for. Like Pipin had been trained for war. Like he had been trained for trade.

As they turned into the steps, shoulder to shoulder, she said, “You are quite a good dancer. Why do you so rarely grace the floor of my ballroom?”

“What profit is there to be had in _dancing?”_ he asked, already seeing the answer. He was touching her, talking to her, close to her, and it allowed him to pretend, just for a moment, that he wasn’t the worst person in the world for even thinking of her this way. The Sultana was so much younger than him, and hated him besides. It was better that way. But at least for a few moments, as she laughed and clutched his hand, he could let himself believe she didn’t mind him so much. These moments, that he locked away in the vault of his mind, more precious to him than the mountains of gil in his vault at home.

As the song ended, he bowed. “I must take my leave, your Grace. But I hope you have had a splendid nameday.”

Nanamo smiled then, bright and cheerful and glittering in the candlelight. “It is certainly a memorable one. I will see you at our next meeting, Lord Lolorito.”

He bowed again, and exited the ballroom.

* * *

The council chamber was crowded as the Sultana entered a week later, everyone eagerly rising to their feet and bowing as she climbed into her seat at the head of the table. They all watched expectantly, waiting for her signal that they could sit, but instead, Nanamo spoke.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, before we begin, I would like to say a few words.” She let her eyes flick to a few people in the room to ensure they were paying close attention.

“The matter of my marriage and production of an heir is one I take quite seriously, and thus did I delay it until now. I see now, after Lord Loetkilbsyn’s words at our last meeting, that my desire to take my time in deliberation may have made many uncomfortable, and placed fears in your minds. For that, I wish to extend my humblest apologies.” She bowed her head, the early afternoon sunlight catching the gold of her crown. As she lifted her head, everyone around the room nodded their acceptance and understanding. She would need both before this trial was through.

“As Sultana, it behooves me to always see to the best interests of my people in matters of state, and my marriage is no less a matter of state than any other I would undertake. So I would ask all present to make a vow with me, as we begin to consider candidates for my consort. Please, weigh the impact they might have for the good of the people of Ul’dah more than you would any other factor, including your own personal agendas.” Her jade eyes seemed to bore into each person in turn until they muttered their assent, settling at last on Pipin, who made a great show of swearing before she motioned for everyone to take their seats. “Now, I am sure this deliberation may take a few weeks, and any suitors named will of course be given an opportunity to court me properly. But, for now, let us begin with suggestions.”

She glanced toward Papashan, who stood to her right, a proud smile on his face. “The Royalists would like to put forward the General of the Immortal Flames, Pipin Tarupin.” The other Royalists in the room made approving noises, and Nanamo nodded, then gestured to Edith, who made a note in a ledger.

“And the Monetarists?” the Sultana asked, turning towards Lord Lolorito. 

“The Monetarists have no desire to interfere with the Crown’s matters, so long as they are carried out with due consideration,” he said, thankful again for his mask as he made a note in his ledger.

“That’s a simple matter then,” Edith said. "We can begin preparations immediately, since there’s only one candida-” Her tongue stilled as Nanamo gently lifted a hand.

“I, too, have a name to put forward,” Nanamo’s chin was high, her face unreadable. She was, at that moment, every inch a Sultana. “After due consideration, I think the best choice to secure the future of Ul’dah is none other than Lord Lolorito Nanarito.”

A sharp gasp echoed through the room, nearly in unison, and Lolorito dropped his quill.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this fic and would like to know more of what's going on with me and my writing, you can check out my twitter: [@amandaterasu](https://www.twitter.com/amandaterasu/)!
> 
> If you want to hang out with me and my friends, we have our own discord where we chill out: [The Majestic Imperial Theater Company](https://discord.gg/eXUfUXG)!


End file.
